


Nightmare

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: Mulder tries to console Emily, who is worried about the incipient arrival of her new sibling.  AU, set in the Season Eight era.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

Scully goes to sleep early, but Mulder stays up in the living room to read.  “Come to bed, if you want,” she told him, but he said he’d stay here, that he didn’t want to disturb her when she needed her sleep.  She’s not one to call attention to it, but she’s been pretty tired recently; they’ve been busy trying to get things settled at work before they go on leave, before the baby.  They still have a month and a half, but the time passes fast and there’s a lot to do, and he wants to let her rest while she can.  When he hears a cry from Emily’s room, he jumps up as quickly as he can, hurrying to see what’s going on, hoping that Scully won’t wake up.

She’s sobbing when he gets there; by the glow of her solar system nightlight, he can see her sitting up in bed, tears running down her face.  “Hey, Em,” he says gently, making his way towards her, “what’s the matter?”  She doesn’t answer him in words, just keeps crying, and he puts his arms around her, hoping maybe that will help.  “Did you have a bad dream?”  Emily nods against him, clinging to his shirt.  “It’s okay,” he tells her, patting her back softly.  “It’s okay.  I’m here now, okay?  Do you want to tell me about it?”  She doesn’t answer that either, but her crying seems to have slowed down a touch, and he lets her get it out, continuing to pat her back as her sobs turn into sniffles. 

She used to have a lot of nightmares.  He wasn’t here then, but Scully’s told him about it, and it was natural, after all, considering everything Emily had been through, considering that the home Scully had made for her, however loving it was, was still an unfamiliar one.  And the nightmares did stop after a while; Scully took her to a child psychologist, Mulder remembers, and then time did its work too.  He remembers her, that three-year-old, sitting shyly with her crayons and not talking unless they asked her a direct question; now she’s six and they can barely get a word in edgewise.  But here she is, crying out in her sleep.

She’s sniffling now, wiping her nose against the sleeve of her pajamas; Mulder offers her a tissue from the box on the nightstand.  She takes it and wipes her eyes.  “Feeling any better?” he asks her quietly.  She shrugs.  “Do you want me to stay?”  She nods vehemently at that, hanging on to his sleeve.  “Okay,” he says.  He smooths her hair back from where it’s stuck to her face.  “Do you want to talk about your dream at all?” he asks again.  “Sometimes that helps.”

The words come out haltingly.  “It was…you and Mommy…we were all in the park and you were walking away.  And I…and I was running to get to you but you were walking too fast and I kept yelling…I kept yelling to wait but you wouldn’t wait and I couldn’t find you anymore.  Both of you,” she adds, and her lip is trembling again.

“It sounds like it was really scary,” Mulder says.  “But you know that would never really happen, don’t you?  Your mom and I, we’d never leave you alone like that.”

“I guess,” Emily says.  She looks far from consoled, though, and Mulder begins to wonder if there’s something more to her dream.

“Is there anything else bothering you?” he asks her.  She doesn’t answer him right away—she’s sucking on a strand of hair now—and he tries to encourage her.  “You know, sometimes we have bad dreams when things are bothering us.  It’s all to do with the subconscious.”  She stares at him blankly, and he puts it into terms that are more suited to a six-year-old.  “Your dreams can be a place for you to figure out things that are going on when you’re awake.  If you’re worried about something, you might have bad dreams.”  Her face is still anxious.  “It used to happen to me sometimes.  When I was a little older than you,” he tells her.  “There were things that were making me sad, and I had bad dreams.”  He remembers waking up in the night so many times that winter, always knowing that he was alone.  “But you know, I bet talking to someone about it would have helped.  And you can go ahead and talk to me, if there’s anything.” 

She’s still quiet for a while, and he just sits there next to her; he won’t push this.  “You know Sarah?” she asks, eventually, and when he doesn’t answer right away she adds, “From my class.”

He doesn’t know Sarah, but he’ll go with it.  “Sure,” he says.

“I was telling Sarah about Mommy having a baby,” she says.  “And how then I’ll have a sister or a brother.  But she said…Sarah said…when Mommy has the baby you’re only going to love the baby.  Well, more than me.  And I didn’t think you would but she said it’s really true.  Because the baby will be your and Mommy’s baby, and I’m not, I mean, not the same way…”  Her voice breaks off; she’s crying again now, gulping in air, and he hugs her tightly, wanting nothing but to take her sadness away.

“Well, Sarah sounds like—” he begins, before cutting himself off, deciding that he probably shouldn’t tell his daughter that one of her classmates is a little shit, even if he thinks it’s true.  “Like someone who has no idea what she’s talking about,” he says instead.  “None of that is true, Em.  Your mom and I love you now, and we’re going to love you just as much when the baby comes.  And we’re not going to love the baby any more than you, or any differently.  You’ll both be our kids.  It’s just the same.”

“No, it’s not,” Emily says, her voice muffled.  “Not the same.”

He tries to figure out what to tell her, how to talk about this in a way that will reassure her, will make her believe in how much she’s loved.  “Look, Em,” he finally says, “do you remember when you first met your mom?”

“Only a little bit,” she says, looking up at him.  “But the baby won’t even have to meet…”  She trails off, shaking her head, and he decides to push on with what he was saying.

“Well, I remember it pretty well,” Mulder tells her.  “And you know what?  She loved you right then.  She wanted to be your mom right when she saw you.  And she was so happy when you got to come home with her.”  There’s more to it than that, of course, but they haven’t told Emily the whole story yet.  Hell, they don’t even know the whole story.  He hopes this is enough for now.  “You know, that means something.  She didn’t even have to know you yet to love you.  She just did, right from the start.  And that’s not something that’s going to stop.”  Emily’s sucking on that strand of hair again as she looks at him.  He’s not sure if she’s taking this in.  “You with me?” he asks, and she shrugs.  “Well, what about you and me?” he says then.  “We’ve been pals from the start, right?  I didn’t have to be your dad yet for me to love you.  Or for you to love me.”  He remembers going out to the park with Scully and Emily, the first time Emily took his hand as they walked.  How sure he felt that he belonged with the two of them.  “Isn’t that right?”  Emily mutters something.  “What was that?” he asks.

“I wanted you to be, though,” she says quietly.  “My dad.”

“And I wanted that too,” he tells her.  “You remember that.  When your mom and I told you we were getting married and that I was going to adopt you too?  How happy we all were?”  Emily nods at that, at least.  “And now we’re all a family,” he reminds her.  “And that’s because of how much we love each other.  It’s loving each other that makes the family, not the other way around.” 

She looks thoughtful.  “Is that true?”

“It is,” he tells her.  “We didn’t come into each other’s lives the same way the baby will, but that doesn’t matter in the end.  We’ll love you and the baby the same way.  That part won’t be any different.”  She’s still quiet.  “Don’t listen to Sarah, because she doesn’t know anything about it,” he finishes up.  “You have nothing to worry about, Em.  Okay?”

“Okay,” she says finally, and she hugs him again, burying her face against him.  “What about me and the baby?” she asks, once she’s pulled away.  “Will we love each other too?”

“Yeah,” he says.  “I think you will.”  He decides to leave the possibilities of sibling rivalry for an occasion that’s not way past her bedtime. 

“Okay,” she repeats.

He smooths her hair back again.  “Are you feeling better about it now, Em?  Do you think you can go to sleep?  It’s pretty late.”

“I’ll go to sleep,” she says, nodding and lying back down.  “Good night, Daddy.”  It seems to be settled, just like that; minutes ago, she was sobbing, and now she’s calmly pulling the blankets around her and closing her eyes.

“Good night, Emily,” he says, kissing the top of her head.  “Love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, sleep already in her voice.

Scully’s not asleep, though, when he goes into their bedroom.  “Hey,” she greets him.  “Is something going on?  I thought I heard voices.”

“Just me and Emily,” he tells her.  He starts to undress for bed.  “She had a nightmare.  I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” Scully says.  “Is she alright?”

He should tell her about their conversation; she’ll want to talk to Emily too, he knows, offer some reassurance of her own.  But that can wait until morning.  “I think she’s fine now,” he says.  “She was almost asleep when I left.”

“That’s good,” she says, shifting as he slips into bed beside her.

“You should sleep too,” he says, settling into the bed.  He wraps an arm around her, one hand resting on the swell of her belly.

“I will,” she says, and her tired voice has more than a hint of Emily’s, and that seems so right, right now. 


End file.
